


First Contact

by risquetendencies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multiple Sex Positions, Mutual Pining, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10809519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: Secret agent Kuroo has worked with the same handler, 005, for two years now, but he's only known him by voice alone. Today that's all about to change.Written for KuroKen Sin Week, Day Three: (Met At A Bar)





	First Contact

Leaning against the storefront nearest him, Kuroo checked the last and so far only text on his phone. It probably would be the sole text on it when he dumped it at the end of this mission.

_shirayuki grand hotel bar. 20:15, table near the kitchen. red sweatshirt. dress casual._

As written communications went, the message was uncharacteristically lengthy for his handler. He was the type of person to favor blunt, short-winded conversations. That could have put them at odds, given Kuroo’s loquacious tendencies, but despite not liking to talk much, 005 was willing to listen. When he did speak up about something though, it was worth savoring. If he focused, Kuroo could almost imagine the man's tone reading out the instructions on his phone’s screen.

He knew 005's voice inside and out. After all, that was the main link he'd had to him for the two years they'd worked together. 005 was the voice in his head, well, earpiece, and occasionally over a radio or phone. They'd never seen each other, and they rarely used emails or other means of contact. Too vulnerable to security breaches, or so 005 had told him once. And he was the expert.

Kuroo inhaled deeply and tucked the phone back in his pocket. It'd been a long time since he'd felt so keyed up for something. Normally the reason he was good at what he did was that he was cool under pressure. He felt far and away from that ideal at the moment.

But this wasn't pressure, it was just... anticipation. Finally, tonight, he'd get to put a face to the voice. He'd get to explore how different 005 was from how he had imagined him to be, and maybe hone in on some of the details he'd guessed right.

Kuroo believed he was a decent judge of character, and he did know a few small details about 005's preferences, like his favorite dessert, and that he owned a cat. Those minor details had been hard-fought to obtain though, given the secrecy of their work. Then again, there wasn't much else to do but make small talk when you were stuck on a twenty-hour stakeout with only each other for company over a headpiece. For every truth about his life that 005 had shared, Kuroo had given him at least three in return. Freely, because he'd wanted to.

If he was being brutally honest, he knew he did so because he wanted 005 to like him for him. Not as his agent whom he had to babysit through each mission.

Until today, Kuroo never believed it would matter, that they'd never meet each other in person, but he'd still yearned for that approval. It was foolish of him, but over time, he'd fallen a little for the voice that had seen him through countless dangerous scenarios. Plus he rarely had any free time, so it wasn't like he’d had a chance to fall for anyone tangible.

Yet, even if he’d had the opportunity, Kuroo wasn't sure that he wouldn't still choose the possibility of his handler with the low, unassuming tone every time. He'd spent too many nights making full use of that voice to deny his attraction.

Ducking in between the cars stalled in the mid-evening traffic, he crossed the street and entered the hotel.

The bar was situated on the left side of the lobby, and from what Kuroo could tell, it took up most of that half of the bottom floor.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed perfect for the purpose of his impending meeting. The interior of the bar was sectioned off by plants and half-walls, giving the various tables an air of privacy many similar establishments lacked. Soft jazz music hummed in the background, putting him at ease. Near to where he was standing, a sign invited him to select his own seat. Luckily, he already knew where he’d go.

Strolling through the maze of seating, he passed by businessmen having end of the day drinks with their coworkers and couples meeting for a brief nightcap before they took their activities elsewhere. His mind stewed on the second image for a longer than it should have, and he found himself blushing. Why, Kuroo wasn’t sure. He was here on business, no matter what his heart (or other parts of him) wanted to believe. Besides, even if that was the case, nothing like what he was thinking would happen. They’d have to at least go out on a date first for it to lead to that.

Really, he was probably building 005 up a lot in his head. He didn’t know that much about the guy, didn’t know what he looked like. If he’d be interested in him.

It was a crush that had gotten out of hand, and Kuroo knew he needed to reel himself in and be professional. He had a tendency of letting his feelings run wild when it came to romance, and in the past, it had caused him plenty of problems. The last thing he needed was to keep repeating the same mistakes. 005 was his work partner, for all intents and purposes, and that was a bridge he absolutely couldn’t burn.

Especially not in the middle of a mission like this one. The target was someone Kuroo was familiar with. Too familiar for his liking, which was why he needed the mission to be a success.

Daishou Suguru was a man born into privilege, as well as a highly-respected collector in his area of interest. Seemingly the only problem with him was that he had a serious aversion to paying for the jewels and expensive antiques he owned, despite all the money he'd inherited from his family. Personally, Kuroo thought he had many more problems, but none he could get him prosecuted for.

He had been on Daishou’s trail for the past three years, and he'd come close to busting him twice now. The third time was going to be the charm. There would be no sweeter satisfaction than seeing Daishou's smug face take on a different shade when he was right where he belonged: behind bars.

It wasn't about catching a culprit that had gotten away, either. No, there was a lot more to it. Namely, the fact Daishou was quite possibly the most irritating human being he'd ever encountered. Over the years, they'd gone back and forth many a time with taunts and threats, and just once, Kuroo wanted to make good on those. Really rub it in that Daishou wasn't as smart and as sneaky as he believed he was. It would be extremely gratifying if he could.

Also, his boss had promised him a month long vacation if he managed to apprehend him, so there was that as a bonus.

Kuroo was pretty sure he deserved a vacation. Maybe some quality time to spend with a certain-

Clearing his throat pointedly, he grounded himself again. He was on the job now, he had to keep his thoughts - and fantasies - in line.

Scanning the room, his eyes trailed along the walls until they ran into a double set of doors. Just then, one side flipped open, and a woman in a lap apron flounced out, a plate of appetizers in hand. That meant it was the kitchen. He was close to where he needed to be.

Kuroo kept walking, this time turning his attention to the different tables. Nothing popped out at him for the first few, so he sized up the booths along the wall instead. At long last, his gaze settled on a splash of red.

_Bingo._

Kuroo paused, but not intentionally. In that moment, his feet didn't want to move. Nor did his eyes, as it happened, when he captured his first glimpse of the man he was supposed to meet with.

There was a pounding in his ears as he sized up the figure hunched forward over the table, hands busy with some device. A game, maybe? A tracker, the smaller version of some tablet? Kuroo wasn't sure. 005 had longer hair that curtained his face from view. The majority of it was honey-colored, a detail that surely had a story to it, but the strands darkened to a jet black at the roots. Overall, he seemed like he'd be average height. His body was more a mystery, as the hoodie he was wearing hung over his frame in a baggy way. The shade suited him, though.

It suited him a lot.

After a few more slack-jawed moments, Kuroo took stock. His palms were sweaty, and his pulse was jackhammering inside his chest. So, he was a wreck, which was utterly fantastic when he was standing mere feet away from the object of his affections. On the other hand, he was certain of his crush. There was just one factor hanging in the balance, and that was talking to him when they were actually in the same room. Even without that though, Kuroo knew.

Nothing was going change the way he felt or what he hoped for.

What he didn't know was how to go about expressing himself, other than bravely charging forward. So, masking the turbulence of his thoughts, he plastered on his usual business smile and made his way over to the booth.

When he drew closer, 005's head lifted from the screen he was fussing with, and he looked in Kuroo's direction. The unveiling of his stare was almost enough to trip him up again, but instead he stopped, pretending he was debating on where to sit. 005 inclined his head, indicating the bench on his side of the booth.

Kuroo complied, gingerly sliding down onto the cushioned seat. Somehow, he felt like sweat was rolling off of him in buckets, but the logical part of his brain knew that wasn't remotely possible. At least not unless he had certain medical conditions, which he didn't. He'd passed his physicals with flying colors every year he'd been at the agency. But that wasn't important.

Summoning his courage, Kuroo opened his mouth, ready to deliver the customary phrase he was supposed to use when meeting someone else from Nekoma.

"There was a cat crossing the road today when I came to meet you."

005 blinked and then turned to face the front again.

"What color?" he asked, sounding bored.

Kuroo's heart did a flip flop. It wasn't any different than he remembered from over communications. But hearing it up close was exhilarating.

"Black as the night sky."

"Clear," 005 confirmed, punching a button on his handheld.

Kuroo glanced down. He recognized it as a gaming console. Was it some kind of new issue thing for the job? Sometimes the tech department made stuff like that, transmitters or cameras hidden in items you wouldn't expect. Yet, as he continued looking, what looked convincingly like the start page of a game came on screen. He raised an eyebrow.

"Five--" he started, but he was abruptly cut off.

"Kenma."

Kuroo gaped.

"Is that?" he mumbled, unsure what to do with the information.

"My name. I don't care if you know it. It's been two years; I think it's fine."

He gaped some more, head spinning a little as he tried to absorb what was happening. Now he had a name and a face to put with the voice of his mysterious handler slash crush. It was a lot to process.

“And… do you know my-?”

“Yeah,” Kenma said flatly.

“But how?”

“I’ve seen your file.”

Kuroo’s face contorted. There probably wasn’t anything real damning in his file, at least not from his work record, or the tests he had to complete when he first started. Then again, there was no saying what his agency appointed therapist had put down in their session notes. The guy was helpful, but he wrote a lot more down than Kuroo opened his mouth to say. He had to be a little suspicious of that.

“Okay then,” he sighed eventually, letting his nerves smooth over with the release of the breath he’d been caging in. “So you know a lot about me then, I’m guessing?”

"At least you're not stupid."

"Wow!" The word popped out at lightning speed, almost before Kuroo recovered from the attack on his character. "I'm just trying to make conversation, if that's alright with you, Kenma. No need for rudeness."

"I've been-" the man beside him trailed off, fingers working over the console he was holding. Kuroo watched as the figure on the screen ran up to another person standing on a platform and initiated a dialogue. "Your handler for two years." Rhythmic clicking filled the space that time as Kenma bypassed the larger part of the pre-battle chatter. Kuroo wondered if he'd played the game before or if he was impatient. "We've talked. I know your face; you just didn't know mine. Otherwise, there's nothing to not know."

Kuroo drummed his fingers on the table. He felt like there was so much more he wanted to know about 005 - no, Kenma - but he at least had his name now. Maybe the rest would come along in time, and with any luck, this wouldn't be their only face-to-face meeting.

"Are you two ready for drinks?"

Kuroo locked eyes with the waitress that had sidled up to their table.

"What do you want? I'll pay for it," he offered, turning back to look at his companion.

"...An appletini."

“Okay, so one of those, and I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks, please.”

They were left alone then, and almost as soon as she was out of earshot, Kenma opened his mouth.

“You didn’t dress casual.”

“I’m sorry?” Kuroo apologized. He didn’t feel sorry though. He’d dressed immaculately on purpose, to make a good impression. A crimson button-down shirt and his best black jeans. As for his hair, he’d managed to tame it into a presentable version of his usual spiked atrocity with gel. Something about the way Kenma was making a point of bringing that up made him think he’d succeeded.

“It’s weird not seeing a bird’s nest on your head.”

“I occasionally try to do something about that, yes,” he retorted, feeling miffed. “But that’s just how my hair works. And it doesn’t like to stick with anything I do to style it. So this is temporary. The bird nest will be back soon enough.”

Kenma shrugged. His game character was surfing on what Kuroo presumed was some sort of animal, coasting through an ocean at full speed. The music he could pick up from the speakers sounded cheery and soft, some string instrument strumming softly in the background.

When Kuroo next looked up from watching the game’s progress, several minutes had passed, and their drinks had arrived from the bar. He passed along the martini to Kenma, who took the tiniest of sips before setting it back down. Not an avid drinker, then, Kuroo surmised. He started in on his own cocktail, letting the smoky notes of the whiskey play on his tongue. It was the perfect accompaniment to a night he was truly enjoying thus far.

For a while longer, he allowed himself to envision it as a date. All too soon though, things turned back toward business.

"Your latest report," Kenma demanded. Briefly, his eyes flickered in Kuroo's direction.

"Hmm, well, I've finished mapping out the exterior of the snake's den. All I have is a blueprint of the inside of the building, but it's recent, up until six months ago when there was a renovation in one of the other suites. The head snake himself seems to be there every day of the week. He hasn't gone out anywhere since last Thursday."

"Snake? ...Head snake?"

"I thought it fit, since he seems to slither out of every situation," Kuroo answered with no trace of remorse.

"Yeah... maybe you should work harder."

Kuroo's face creased into a frown.

"I've been working very hard, thank you. Constant surveillance for one thing. He's right where I can get him, and I know he has the jewels in his possession. No more bait and switches like last time. I've made sure he's out of tricks, and if we get him with stolen goods in his actual hands, he can't sweet talk his way out of doing time."

"We?"

"Well yeah, I mean, I couldn't do any of this without your help," Kuroo answered honestly. He watched his companion for a moment. Kenma had paused in what he was doing. He seemed puzzled, or perhaps just thoughtful. Not too long after, he went back to mashing buttons.

"I contacted our legal guys. They think it's air tight too. If you can get him with the jewels. We've collected enough evidence to support the case this time," he trailed off. Beside him, Kuroo was listening intently.

The news was encouraging. Twice he had failed to get Daishou arrested. Other agents than him had tried too, but the guy was hard to pin down. The first time he had worked on it, and when some of his colleagues had been assigned to the mission, Daishou had gotten off in court. His higher education had been in law, and regrettably, he was a good actor on top of that.

Then there was the time Kuroo had arranged a bust on where he'd believed Daishou was storing his ill-begotten treasures and it had been an empty warehouse. To top it all off, the real loot had been shipped out of the country while they were busy searching the fake location. It had been frustrating beyond belief. He was determined never to make that mistake again. This time would be the time he took down his nemesis once and for all.

And then he could enjoy that vacation he'd been promised.

Raising his glass, Kuroo took a long swig of whiskey almost as a toast to that goal. When he was done, he licked his lips to catch the lingering taste. A second later, he spluttered when he felt a hand move onto his thigh.

"K-Kenma?" he questioned, jerking his head to the side to stare at the other man. He wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if his face had gone red already.

"Just take it."

The hand tapped against his thigh, and it was then that Kuroo felt something curled within his palm. Some of his soul gradually returned to his body, and his shoulders relaxed now that he knew the gesture was innocent. Freeing up one hand, he grabbed what was being offered. A quick peek downward revealed it was a card key.

"For the building. Don't ask me how I got it."

Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I won't."

Kenma was mysterious like that sometimes. And by mysterious, Kuroo was pretty sure his methods meant hacking. Or less than savory contacts from his time in the field before becoming a handler. Still, it was to his benefit, and he trusted Kenma. So some things were fine to leave unanswered.

Kuroo tucked the card into his jacket pocket.

"Mind if I stay for another drink?" he asked.

Technically their business was concluded, but he wasn't ready to go yet. The excitement and anticipation he had felt on the way to the meeting had transformed into a bubble of contentedness. Just sitting here with Kenma was soothing. Kuroo was sure that it didn't matter if they talked or not, though he was open to any sort of conversation. He certainly wanted to know more about this man, if he'd let him. But mostly he just wanted the balm of his company. The rest could come later.

Between that and going home to his house, a place he seldom resided in for long periods of time, with nothing and no one waiting for him, the choice was clear.

"Okay. Get me another one too."

Kuroo opened his mouth to say that Kenma had barely taken more than a sip of his original drink, but shut it when Kenma picked said glass up and drained it in one tilt. Mildly amazed, Kuroo watched the bob of his throat as he drank it down, and marveled at how he could stand to do that. Not even in college had he been able to down an entire drink in one go. His friends had always poked fun at him for his weakness, but he was a light touch when it came to drinking. It's just how he was.

"You're taking advantage of my generosity now," he teased.

"Do you mind?" Kenma replied. The way he said it made Kuroo think that he already knew the answer. Was he really that easy to read?

"Nope."

Laughing to himself, Kuroo slid out of the booth and made his way over to the bar. Once he'd placed orders for them both, he leaned heavily against the counter.

It was getting real for him now. Feeling the same feelings he had when they communicated during a mission when Kenma was sitting right next to him. Actually knowing his name, the shape of his face, the way he carried himself. Everything felt more potent now that he could connect all those bits of knowledge together. Kuroo had never tried to deny his sentiments, but there had always been doubt in the back of his head that those sentiments would be requited. A doubt that had been thoroughly extinguished by tonight.

Only, now that his doubt was gone, it had left space for those feelings to magnify, to expand within him to the point where he now felt like he'd burst if he didn't speak them aloud. But was he ready for that? It would mean putting his heart on the line, and he didn't know what Kenma thought of him, not really. They got along, but that might be it on his end.

Kuroo took a breath in deep, and then slowly pushed it out in an attempt to regulate himself. His pulse was rising, and he knew if he let it get out of hand, he wouldn't be able to think clearly anymore.

He should probably say something.

It was better to say it in person, and this might be the only face-to-face meeting they'd have for a while. Or ever, in a work sense. If it went south, then they could revert to their usual voice and text only contact and things would settle eventually.

But he had to chase that small possibility that what he was feeling wasn't only in his heart.

Not much later, he collected their drinks from the bartender and began walking back to the table. As he went, Kuroo rehearsed the words he wanted to say. They weren't anything new; he'd been thinking about them for a while. It was more that his brain had grown cloudier as the night went on, and a little reminder was necessary.

Kenma didn't seem to have moved an inch from when he'd left. But instead of surfing through the ocean, his game character was sprinting up a path that wrapped around a volcano. Interesting, Kuroo thought absently.

He'd known his handler was into gaming more than the average person, and that was a difference they had. Kuroo himself had never found much interest in any of the games he'd gotten for holidays growing up. Maybe a few days of casual playing and then he tended to get tired of trying to level up or explore the complex worlds. But watching Kenma play whatever he was right now was strangely engaging.

Kuroo slid his appletini over the table to rest in front of where his hands were balanced on top of it with the console. He started in on his own drink and leaned over, watching him navigate the world. The game seemed to be 3-D, and the artwork was bright and colorful. The quality of it almost made him want to try playing, but not quite. Watching was more his speed.

They continued together like that for an interminable stretch of time before Kuroo recalled his driving purpose. That was when the nerves resurfaced, quieter than before, but still bubbling around the bottom of his stomach. Still, he was ready.

"Kenma." He paused, tapping his free hand on his lap as he thought some more. "You know... I've wanted to meet you for a really long time."

The game clicked as a settings menu was opened, and then a soft sound echoed as the console was set down entirely. Kenma twisted in his seat to look at him. A chill ricocheted down Kuroo's spine.

Okay. It was still okay. He didn't expect to have this kind of spotlight, but he could get the words out, couldn't he?

Then again, eye contact with Kenma was disarmingly powerful.

It was the way he stared a person down, like he was breaking them down into little pieces of information that went into his mind's vault, never to be lost. There was intelligence, and calculation, in his gaze, and Kuroo knew all too well that it wasn't just an illusion. Kenma might have been a quiet guy, but there were so many processes going on beneath his surface that it was honestly incredible. He was incredible, and his strategizing had gotten Kuroo out of many tough situations in the past. He should have known that he would have this kind of stare.

Once again, Kuroo steeled himself. Compromising with his strained nerves, he averted his gaze when he began to talk.

"I... really like you. D-Do you think we could meet up? I mean, another time. Not for work, just so we're clear," he said, cringing inwardly as he heard his tone change from steady to babbling. Why? Why did he seem to lose all composure in these situations?

His eyes swayed back toward Kenma for a second. His lips were pursed, and it was hard to tell what his expression meant. It looked like he wanted to cut in, but he was hesitating. A million separate explanations for why that could be started swarming around in Kuroo's brain.

Kuroo felt his chest seize, his mouth run dry. It wasn't that he was expecting an affirmative right away, or even anything particularly positive. But that pause somehow felt terrifying. He'd gotten out what he wanted to say, he'd achieved that goal, but at what cost?

Kenma could be hesitating and thinking anything. About how awkward it felt to have your coworker confess to you, especially one you weren't even used to seeing on a general basis, even if you talked to them. Maybe he wasn't into men. He could be grossed out; he could be thinking that Kuroo was out of his mind. On another note, he could think it was inappropriate in general because of their work. Whatever the truth was, that pause was enough to make Kuroo implode.

“Sorry. Just because I feel something doesn’t mean that you do. Sorry if I’m being weird-" Kuroo stopped, forcibly preventing himself from rambling on in the same vein. Confidence, he needed to have a little if he was ever going to dig himself out of the hole he'd made thus far. "Hey, how about this. If I can get this guy, and like, say I get him soon, would you consider saying yes? Unless you don’t want to. Or you’re not interested. Which is totally fine, by the way. I just wanted to-"

Kenma leaned in and grabbed his hand. He held onto it tight.

“Kuro. Stop," he instructed, enunciating the words carefully. His eyes remained fixed on Kuroo's, assessing his demeanor as he started to wind down from his panic. "It’s not just you. I like working with you too.”

Warring thoughts filled Kuroo's head. What he was hearing didn't sound negative, but he was confused. Was liking to work with him just working with him? Or was it liking him in the same way that he liked-?

"But," his ears perked up at the way Kenma focused on that word, "I'll only say yes if you can get him in two days. That's enough time."

Taken in as he was by what was being said, Kuroo was oblivious to anything else going on. Yet, somewhere in between the first sentence and the next, he realized that the hand of his that was being held was now moving, being dragged down to rest on Kenma's thigh.

Soundlessly, he gasped for air. He wasn't sure where to look then, or what to think. His mind was numb.

"You can complete your mission, can't you?"

Their linked hands came to a stop at the top of Kenma's thigh. His fingers were on the inner seam of his jeans. Even through the material, he felt like he could feel the warmth of Kenma's skin. Or maybe it was just him who was warm. Probably both. Kuroo blushed as he tried to organize his thoughts. He'd been asked a question, but how to respond eluded him for a good few moments.

Floundering for words, he finally found ones that were satisfactory.

"I-It's a date!"

Kenma let go of his hand.

"Maybe."

For a split second it looked like he was concealing a smile, a small one at that, but then he ducked his head, concealing whatever it had been further.

Exercising the last of his self control, Kuroo removed his hand, reaching for his drink instead. He took a stout sip of the whiskey. That time the burn of it going down didn't even register. It was soothing in its own way, something to break up the fog he was in and restore some clarity to his thoughts. When he recovered, a detail popped into the front of his mind.

“...By the way, did you call me Kuro?”

“Yeah.”

“And you do know my name is Kuroo right?”

“So what.” Kenma's face pinkened and he scowled mercilessly in his direction.

“My, my. It’s early for nicknames, but I’ll take it from you,” Kuroo quipped. Rather than tense, nervous, or bewildered, he was happy again. And he was determined to bask in it for as long as he could.

“Yeah, you seem like you’re that type,” Kenma jabbed back. In response, Kuroo donned a scandalized expression, holding it for a few seconds. It was less than convincing, so he abandoned it in favor of a more direct answer.

"Sometimes."

Truthfully, he'd be happy to be whatever, so long as it meant feeling like he did now. 

 

* * *

 

"We're outside now, ready for infiltration. Are we clear?"

Kuroo's earpiece clicked.

"You're clear. But first, what's your condition?"

"Oh me? I'm fine. More than fine actually. Just really ready to get this over with, finally."

None of it was an exaggeration. Kuroo felt like he was walking on air. His motivation was through the roof thanks to what awaited him on the other side of clearing this mission. Vacation, the satisfaction of locking down a target who was more slippery than an eel, and a date with Kenma. Plus whatever that entailed. Judging by the way Kenma had offered, he had reason to believe that might include more than dinner. Even if it didn't, he was still pretty pumped.

Currently, he and a small team of his subordinate agents were lying in wait outside Daishou's base. All they needed to do was get in, get the culprit and jewels in hand, and then this would be wrapped up. Daishou would have a date in court, but Kuroo's responsibility would be fulfilled.

There was no way he was going to mess this up.

"Take a breath. Don't do anything dumb because you're more than fine," Kenma said from the other end of their connection.

"Are you calling me fine?" Kuroo teased. Having his own personal line to his handler versus the rest of the unit had its advantages.

Or rather, it did now. Originally it had started off because his junior agents for some reason had grown tired of chemistry and cat puns. Why they preferred to conduct stakeouts in silence instead, Kuroo couldn't fathom. Kenma wasn't, strictly speaking, the most responsive audience, but every once in a while he contributed a pun of his own. It was always a sneak attack though, and his timing was impeccable.

"I could let you go in blind."

Kuroo recoiled, hugging one hand to his chest.

"You wouldn't."

"Would."

"Rude," he muttered, adjusting the collar of his suit.

"Water is wet," Kenma deadpanned.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid," Kuroo shot back, circling back to their original argument. "I've wanted to get that snake for too long to let him get away again."

What sounded like a mumble echoed in his ear, probably Kenma's way of acknowledging his words. Kuroo glanced around him, noting the positions of his other agents. It was about time for them to make their move.

"Are we still clear?"

"Yeah."

"Heading in then."

Jabbing his hand toward the building in question, Kuroo waited as the other men started in toward the door. They'd approached from the back, coming up through the alley toward the warehouse style entrance. The air outside was crisp and cold, keeping his head clear. Buckling down, Kuroo started jogging after the rest of the team.

Standing out front, he waited as one of the agents picked the lock. The cardkey he had would only help once they were inside, but it was simple enough to get there. A minute later, there was a faint groan from the handle, and the door was eased open, allowing them to slip inside soundlessly.

Kuroo signaled again, sending two men to investigate the rooms on one side of the ground level, two more for the opposite side. He took the final two and headed for the stairwell.

From what he'd memorized in the blueprints he'd obtained, the second level was the densest and presented the most obstacles. Both the doors and glass walls separating parts of the corridors were locked by card access. That had been the major upgrade when the building had been renovated, and it was going to be a pain in the ass to deal with. Even if Kuroo had the key, he only had one of them, and there was more than one of him trying to search the place.

Above them, there was one more level, and that was where he expected the stolen goods to be. Closer to the roof with its makeshift helipad that he'd scouted with a drone one afternoon.

As for Daishou, Kuroo had a different hunch.

The single most predictable thing about the guy was that he constantly changed tactics. It was a part of what made him so hard to pin down, along with his silver, if venom-laced, tongue and buckets of money to throw at his problems. Another thing for Kuroo to consider was the fact that he'd gone underground for so long this time around. Ever since he'd pulled off his last heist and learned the agency knew he was behind it, Daishou had hid. That was unusual for someone so flashy.

If Kuroo guessed, he believed the stress had finally cracked him. Even for someone who loved the thrill of a risky, expensive lifestyle, living the past few years tiptoeing around jail and consequences had to be stressful. It certainly had messed with other areas of Daishou's life. His fiancée had called things off sometime between the last time he got off in court and the date of the heist they were pegging him for this time. The two had been together since the later years of high school, so that had to be a significant blow.

Hopefully it was the blow they needed to knock Daishou enough off his game so that they could get him.

As his team of three finished ascending the stairs, Kuroo checked around them. Doors upon doors, all leading to different rooms. Many possibilities, but he was sure they were right where they needed to be. In the past, Daishou had holed up in control rooms, top level suites, and basement bunkers. If he was indeed somewhere on this floor, it fit the way he liked to do things.

"005. Any chance of unlocking the doors for us? Shutting down power to them, maybe?" he suggested into his mic, continuing to circle his gaze and keep alert.

"No. The card I got you won't even work then."

"Damn." Kuroo sighed.

It really was going to be a tedious process, wasn't it?

Protocol and his training would lead him to pick a side of the floor and search door to door. Not break up his unit of three to spread out. Having one, or two, buddies was the smart way of operating. It left the chance of them picking the wrong area to start searching, and having the target slip past them while they were engaged there. But it was safer, and thorough.

Kuroo could admit to himself that he was impatient. His excitement had gained an edge to it once he'd actually made it through the door. He was close, so close to completing his mission. There were things he greatly wanted at stake. It wasn't just any job that he was working on. That made him antsy to be done with it.

But breaking protocol wasn't in his nature. Usually.

"Captain?"

Kuroo snapped to attention. His man on the right flank had turned to him with a questioning stare.

"Your orders?"

He retreated inward, grappling with what was best given their situation. They did have most of their manpower on the first floor, presumably in range to stop anyone up here who tried to slip past them and escape. And it wasn't as though Daishou or any of his men were going to jump from the third floor to the ground. The helicopter wasn't docked, so they didn't have that as a getaway option either. They'd have to go out the ground floor if they wanted to get out. Kuroo and his team could probably do things their usual way and not let anyone fall through the cracks.

The order rested on the tip of his tongue, but then a clamor from below them severed the thought. Circling back toward the stairwell, Kuroo could hear shouts and heavy sounds rising up through the building, the signs of a skirmish ringing loud and clear despite their distance apart. That changed his mind swiftly.

In a split second, he knew what to do. It was equal parts wise and selfish.

"You two, go and help. I'm going on ahead here!"

He waited only to watch the directions register in his subordinates' eyes and then he was off.

Kuroo grit his teeth as he sprinted down the nearest hallway.

Where the parts of the ground floor they'd traversed had been mostly dingy, concrete storage rooms, this level was all antiseptic white paneling and marble floors. Fluorescent lights beamed overhead, making him glad for the black shades he was sporting. They neutralized the harshness of the scene, putting him more at ease as he scanned his surroundings.

He stopped to catch his breath and assess where he was in the floor plan. As he went over the route in his mind, Kuroo found himself entertaining the slightest bit of guilt. He hated making this kind of choice, but he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he missed his chance to nab such an elusive target as the one he was after today.

"Why are you alone in there?"

Zoned out as he was, he hadn't been expecting a comment. It should have been obvious he'd receive one though. He was off where he wasn't supposed to be and Kenma was responsible for watching his back.

"Kuro."

And maybe, just maybe, he cared about him and his well-being.

"You're doing something stupid."

Regretfully, it seemed like any other mission they'd worked on together. Kenma was harsh. It was effective, but that effectiveness was crushing his hopes a little. Okay, a lot.

"I'm sure I know where he's hiding!" Kuroo huffed stubbornly on his end of the connection. "I have to get him!"

"It doesn't have to be you. Wait for backup," Kenma instructed, voice even but firm.

Kuroo shifted on his feet. So much of him was screaming to disobey right then, and he wanted to listen to that protest, but it conflicted with how he preferred to work - playing it safe. He took a moment, hands resting on his hips, to think it over.

Experience was telling him to turn back, to go aide his team members and wait until he had them back to proceed. Kenma was telling him to wait, and he trusted him. But Kuroo was also prepared. He knew the floor plan of the building backwards and forwards, and he'd settled on where Daishou had to be concealed. He'd known where that was coming into today.

There was a spot on the blueprint that had been unmarked. A cramped space sandwiched between a utility closet and the west stairs leading to the third story. If he hadn't studied the layout as fastidiously as he had, Kuroo would have overlooked it. In his view, that made it a prime candidate for somewhere Daishou could hide out until he spotted an opportunity in the chaos to escape. That had to be the place.

It was quiet on this floor. It had been from the beginning.

There wasn't anyone up here. Well, apart from the obvious. But none of the warm bodies Daishou employed as shields.

It was just them.

Kuroo's breath hissed out between his teeth. He had a chance. A one on one chance at closing off this case for good. Maybe he was being rash, and unwise, and any other negative adjective his common sense and Kenma could collaborate to come up with. But he had to act. He had to take the gamble.

"Kuro. Don't."

"Don't what?" he laughed wryly.

"I know what you're thinking of doing. And I don't want you to do it."

"...I'm looking forward to our date."

Grimacing, Kuroo ripped the earpiece out and tossed it away. It rattled onto the floor in a distant corner, and he silently drafted a hundred separate apologies in his head.

From here on out, distraction was the devil, even if it came in a package like Kenma. He needed to work. Work and live up to his promises.

Hallway partitions and doors came all in a blur as Kuroo moved through the floor, using the card key where he needed to in order to proceed. Nothing else was allowed to register but the path ahead, and the blanker his mind went, the faster he moved. He'd been right about one thing for sure - the building Daishou had chosen to make his base this time was tedious.

As he approached his destination, tension started to seep into his posture. He held his arms stiffly by his sides, his eyes swaying quickly from place to place. It was his instincts kicking in.

Kuroo stopped in front of the door he'd been seeking. It was as nondescript as its unlabeled section on the map suggested. If anything, it looked identical to the closet a few feet down. Just a hole in the wall that no one would think to check.

Kuroo stepped forward and opened the door cautiously, ready to swing it back closed if he had to in order to avoid a waiting attack. Nothing happened, so he let it open all the way and walked through it.

Inside the room was steeped in shadow, but Kuroo could see rows and rows of shelving filled with boxes. If nothing else, there was a good chance he'd found the jewels that had been stolen.

Proceeding deeper, he spotted a gleam of light at the end of the center aisle. A laptop lying open on top of a desk. Kuroo couldn't help but grin at that discovery. He had been right. And truthfully, this was an appropriate place for someone like Daishou to use as his den. Dark, hidden, and filled with treasure.

The only remaining question was, had he fled already?

Well, if he hadn't, then he couldn't be allowed to think there was a chance he was getting away. Kuroo needed to make that clear.

"This is a pretty awful place to hide, by your standards," he commented into the darkness. "Your security system was annoying, at least. But easy to deal with since I have the key. You might want to think about hiring people who are more loyal about keeping your secrets."

Shutting his mouth, Kuroo waited, stock still where he stood and ears peeled for any giveaways. But all he could hear was his own breathing and the little protest the floor made when he shifted how he was standing to look to the sides of him. It wasn't until he'd decided to start making a walkthrough of the room that he heard something.

A voice rose from the void, seemingly coming from every direction at once. Kuroo cursed himself then. He'd never been great at discerning the direction of someone or something by sound. Seeking to cover his bases, he retreated a few steps closer to the door to block it off in case Daishou was anywhere near it.

"Still loud, I see."

Kuroo grimaced, squinting blindly into the shadows in a vain attempt to locate him.

"Did it ever occur to you I was thinking ahead?" There was a faint laugh. "No. Of course not. Thinking ahead isn't your style. That's why you charged ahead all alone."

"Seems like you're pretty alone yourself," he fired back.

"Perhaps. But I have you exactly where I want you to be, so my plan worked. I let the card key fall into your agency's hands. I knew you'd be selfish and come here by yourself. It'd be too hard for you to resist. And I was right, Agent 001. Here you are."

Daishou's words were delivered confidently, without even a trace of fear or implausibility. Everything was according to plan. He could never do anything wrong. He had things under control. Those were all things Kuroo had heard before, and he knew the concepts were at the center of Daishou's persona. What was difficult to discern was if he truly believed the crap he spouted off, or if they were mantras to bolster his own mood.

He'd always excelled with talking far more than action. Which was why he was hiding in the dark, and why he was making the claims he was.

"I don't buy that for a second!" Kuroo retorted.

He scoffed for good measure.

“If everything was going so wonderful, you’d show that ugly mug of yours. You wouldn’t be cowering in the dark like a scared kid. You might as well give up, Daishou. You’ve had your fun, but this time, you can’t talk your way out of the consequences.”

“I think you underestimate not only my power, but the respectability of the court system in this country.”

“I trust my men. I don’t have to worry about the rest. You’re going down for this,” Kuroo stated. Contrary to his nemesis, he had full confidence in his declarations. Even a corrupt legal system couldn’t twist around the mountain of evidence they had on this guy. Kenma had said they had enough for a conviction. Kuroo believed him as well.

“Come out. You can’t hide in this room forever, and I’m not letting you get away.”

“I can and I think I will.”

Kuroo let out a low sigh of frustration. This guy truly was, to date, the most irritating person he’d ever dealt with. Most criminals knew when they were cornered. Daishou on the other hand refused to see the facts unless they were in his favor.

“Did your break-up really hit you upside the head that hard?” he taunted, throwing it out there to see what reaction he could glean.

A loud clang sounded as something clattered to the floor. Kuroo heard it clearly. He turned his head in that direction and started inching forward, careful to make his footfalls as muffled as possible.

“Changed your mind?” he said. There was the tiniest bit of gloating in the statement that he couldn’t keep out. “Coming out now? Seen the error of your ways?”

“No thank you. I have my pride.”

Metal creaked in the distance. Daishou leaning his weight back against one of the shelves, if Kuroo had to hazard a guess. He really was overconfident if he thought he could hold his position and not be found just because it was dark. Even if Kuroo wasn’t great at picking out sounds, they did give him a general idea where to go. And if he kept bumping loud things off the shelves, it’d be easy. Even he couldn’t miss when the clues were that deafeningly obvious.

Kuroo extended a hand out in front of himself, feeling around until his fingers found purchase somewhere. Gripping at his discovery, he figured it was the edge of one of the shelves. Well, that was a start.

He just had to provoke Daishou enough to make him provide the rest of the directions. All while not knowing he was getting himself caught by his own idiotic actions. It was brilliant. Underhanded but brilliant.

Then again, if it got the job done, Kuroo was willing to bend his moral compass. He wasn’t breaking the law. In this situation he was the law.

“Did your fiancée get tired of you always getting into trouble, or tired of you in general? She seemed like a nice girl in court.”

There was a bump to one of the shelves and another item rumbled off it and shattered on the floor. It sounded vaguely like glass. Kuroo continued stealthily moving in closer, using his hands on the shelves to guide him down the rows. He was close. Any second now, and he’d be there.

He hesitated at the next row. Left side, or right side?

It didn’t matter. He’d stayed quiet enough not to let Daishou know he was nearby. He’d check down one side, and if he didn’t find him there, he’d switch sides.

Stepping lightly, Kuroo started traipsing down the row on the right nearest to him. About halfway down it, he pulled his hands back from where they’d been outstretched. He wanted to be ready to fight if necessary. Tensing into a proper stance, he then moved forward.

Just then, there was a clamor across from him. A body bumping into metal and bouncing off. Feet scraping against the floor, running, straining. Cursing, Kuroo turned around and started sprinting back the way he’d come.

He’d been duped.

Now he had to try and stop Daishou escaping.

As they neared the door, Kuroo could make out Daishou’s outline in front of him. He sped up and pistoned himself forward, catching hold of Daishou’s clothes just as his hands closed on the door. Using all his strength, Kuroo yanked him back bodily and shoved him back into the room.

Daishou stumbled back, and then regained his footing. Kuroo made an executive decision and shut the door, leaving them in darkness. It was worse now - he didn’t even have the bit of light from the hallway to go on anymore.

Kuroo planted himself in front of the door, pressing back into it as if he was prepared to hold it shut himself.

The room had gone quiet again.

Breathing hard, he trained eyes on his surroundings. Nothing yet. He couldn’t make the same mistake twice. No, he’d have to wait for Daishou to make another break for it. For Daishou to come to him, and he’d have to end the fight there. Somehow.

Adrenaline coursed through Kuroo’s veins, clearing his mind and allowing him to focus. There wasn’t space in his head to worry about anything else, whether it was his men on the floor below engaged in their own scuffles or Kenma, who was probably pissed at him by now for forgoing communications.

Still, he’d been right. He couldn’t feel sorry about his choices with how things stood currently.

Kuroo stood there long enough for his razor-sharp thinking to die down and for stray doubts to set in. He was guarding the door, but would that just lead to a stalemate? Should he start venturing out into the room again?

Daishou had been baiting him before, purposefully knocking things off to lead him far enough away from the door to give himself an opportunity to run. He knew that now, and while repeating the error wasn’t something Kuroo wanted to do, he wasn’t sure what his options were. If Daishou wasn’t going to come to him after all, then what?

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he leaned harder into the door. All right, so perhaps his plan hadn’t been entirely foolproof. He’d figured out where Daishou would be without thinking how hard it might be to subdue him once he was there. And sure enough, here he was now, unable to finish this on his own.

Most likely, he should have waited for backup before chasing after him. Even likelier was that, like he always did, Kenma had thought several steps ahead and foreseen a situation like this. Which was why he’d warned him off charging ahead solo.

Kuroo had been in worse conundrums before. This wasn’t as dire. But it was irritating, and he could admit he felt like he’d been too rash. He’d have to apologize when he got a chance later.

Then he heard it. The thud of footsteps. Kuroo braced himself in position.

A second later, he was sprung upon. Daishou’s fist struck out through the shadows, smashing dead-on into his nose. Pain erupted at the source, spidering out to the rest of his face instantaneously. Kuroo felt blood dripping down onto his lips. He put all his weight back into the door, taking the hit but not giving up his post.

As Daishou pulled back, Kuroo leapt forward with a snarl, trying to grab at him. His hand made contact with clothing, but then Daishou’s other arm swung down, slapping his hand away. Then he was slipping back into the cover of the shadows.

Kuroo clutched at his face, simultaneously trying to wipe away some of the blood and feel out the shape of his nose. It hurt like hell, but he doubted it was serious. But there was now a bigger issue to consider.

If he stayed in front of the door, he was an easy target. Daishou knew right where to aim. But if he moved, that left the door defenseless, and he didn’t know where his adversary was lurking. There was no good or easy answer. He didn’t know what to do.

_Smack._

He was saved the trouble of worrying about it with a blow to the side of his face. Kuroo cried out, crumpling slightly as pain snapped through him.

He fell to his knees; everywhere he’d been hit ached, making it harder to concentrate. But he had to think. How could he turn this around? Under normal circumstances, he knew he was stronger than Daishou. He just needed to get the jump on him for once and it’d be over.

Listening, Kuroo heard feet scraping the floor and he braced himself. He could take another hit. When it came, he’d grab Daishou, and then he’d have an advantage.

The door rang loudly from impact, but Kuroo felt no pain. It was above him. Daishou had kicked and missed. Kuroo heard a heavy thud in front of him. Had he fallen? Lost his balance after missing his target? He had to be running out of stamina; Daishou had never been incredibly athletic.

This was his chance.

Pulling himself up from the floor, Kuroo lunged forward. He made contact, getting his arms around Daishou’s legs and forced him back to the ground. His own body stung from slamming onto the concrete floor, and when Kuroo shook off the sensation, he realized his adversary wasn’t moving.

Daishou was lying still. Not struggling, not fighting any longer. The only explanation Kuroo could think of was that his head got hit hard on the way down, and he’d been knocked out. It made things simpler, if it was real.

Using his weight to pin down the other man’s legs, Kuroo waited it out. He counted the seconds in his head until enough inactivity had passed that he was convinced that Daishou was legitimately out of commission. Then he breathed a sigh of relief.

All in all, Kuroo felt drained. Not just from the physicality of the encounter, but from the release of tension that came with wrapping up a mission. This time for sure, they’d be able to prosecute Daishou. It was the culmination of several years of work, and it was a huge victory. If he didn’t feel so tired, he’d almost want to do a celebratory lap.

Then there was the matter of the other stakes put on his ability to complete the mission.

Kuroo’s heart gave a little start as he thought about it. He was actually going to go on a date with Kenma. Kenma was now a real person in his life and the attraction he’d developed didn’t seem to be totally unrequited. That fact alone was pretty amazing.

Though, he imagined he’d first have to deal with a bit of backlash from him for going off protocol. It had happened before on other missions. Not often, but enough to where Kuroo knew what to expect when they talked to each other next. Kenma wasn’t really the lecturing type, but he made good use of cutting comments. Now that he knew what he looked like, Kuroo wouldn’t be surprised if he could give a mean stink eye as well when he was annoyed.

But it would probably still be cute. The thought made him want to know all of Kenma’s faces.

First though, he had to finish what he was doing here.

Kuroo stood up, taking a second to work the kinks out of his back and arms. Thinking it was about time he had some light to see by, he walked over to the door, pushing it open to let the fluorescence from the hallway lamps shine through. He looked back at Daishou.

Still laying right where he left him. Still not going anywhere.

Kuroo rifled through the pocket on his belt until he found his pair of handcuffs. Then he returned to where Daishou was, crouching down beside him.

Kuroo grabbed the arm nearest to him, slipping the cuff around it and cinching it closed. No movement. Which was good, but also troublesome if he’d managed to do more damage than knocking Daishou unconscious.

He felt around the wrist for a pulse. A vein throbbed slowly under his fingers, beating evenly for those few seconds.

Kuroo sighed in relief. It was always better when no one died on him.

He started to reach across to grab the other hand. Suddenly, his arm was shoved out of the way. Daishou sprang up, a flash of steel glimmering in the low light. Kuroo jerked back out of the way, avoiding the brunt of the dagger thrust at him, but pain seared his chest as it cut him.

He dropped the other half of the cuffs, going for Daishou’s wrist. Daishou's face was all cold fury, determination.

They grappled with each other, the knife swaying more one way or the other as control alternated between them by the second. Kuroo growled low in his throat, trying to push it back in Daishou’s direction. He pressed his weight into their scuffle, hoping that it would give him the upper hand. If he could get him down on the floor again, maybe he could win.

But even with the added pressure, Daishou seemed not to budge.

Straining, he turned his focus, starting to pry at Daishou’s fingers where they were secured around the dagger’s jeweled hilt. Slowly, he felt them giving way, the clamminess of Daishou’s hand making it harder for him to keep his grip.

The weapon sprung loose into Kuroo’s hold. He took possession and immediately tossed it away, flinging it deep into the room. Then he slammed his body into Daishou’s. They both dropped to the ground again, and he held him down as he got the second cuff on his other wrist.

“Fuck you!” Daishou snarled, spitting up at him.

“Class-y!” Kuroo responded, laughing in between heavy breaths. “I think it’s your goose that’s cooked, though.”

He tugged on the chain link between the two cuffs.

“Now get up. I’ve got a cozy little cell waiting for you while you wait for your court date. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“You will pay for this, agent.”

“You can try. Your friends can too. Do you have friends? You don’t seem like the type who has friends. Either way, I think I’ll be just fine,” Kuroo drawled on. It was more than a little gratifying to rub it in Daishou’s face, he had to admit. Then again, he’d never claimed to be a selfless person. When someone annoyed him, he didn’t feel bad about getting them right back.

Sensing it was the only way they’d get anywhere, he manhandled Daishou to his feet, and got a good grip on his arm.

“Walk.”

 

* * *

 

After the tension of executing a raid, tying up the loose ends of a mission was peaceful. It didn’t require much thought. Handing off the perpetrators to the police for incarceration, making a verbal report to his superior, delegating people to go catalog the stolen items in the building - all of it was simple.

Kuroo leaned back, stretching out on the bumper of the van he was sitting on. His lips curled up lazily at the corners.

In addition to his arrest, his men had caught five of Daishou’s accomplices, prominent ones that he’d used as look outs or additional muscle in previous heists. They’d receive lesser time usually, were it not for the additional charges they’d incurred by having trafficked weapons in their possession.

It was a great outcome. Better than he could have hoped for.

“Captain.”

One of his subordinates had approached him. He nodded to show he was listening.

“Agent 005 has arrived, and is requesting a word with you. He said he’ll be at the perimeter of our search area, two blocks east.”

Kuroo controlled his expression. Professional, be professional, he chanted inwardly.

“Thanks, I’ll go and meet him.”

“Sir.”

“Yes?”

“You still have blood on your… face, and chest. Shouldn’t you go to medical first?”

“Oh, these?” Kuroo said, glancing down at where his vest had been sliced open. “It’s not a big deal. I can get them patched up later.”

“If you say so, sir.”

The tone of that response didn’t sound completely convinced, but Kuroo ignored it. Mostly, now that everything had wrapped up, he was excited to see Kenma again.

With that mindset, two blocks went by in almost no time.

On the outskirts of the neighborhood the agency had cordoned off, it was quiet, a lone guard patrolling while all of the activity lay within. Kuroo spotted Kenma waiting at the head of an alley, hunched over some device.

For a second he thought it was the same game console as before, but when he drew closer, he saw it was actually a tablet. On the screen was a grid style map, with several dots moving around it. Each was labeled with a number, and he assumed it corresponded to each of the agents and their location, given Kenma was their control tower of sorts. Keeping tabs on them was essential to his job.

He walked up with a grin on his face, unsure what he’d say to break the ice, but happy nonetheless to be in present company.

Kenma only looked up at him when he reached his side.

At first glance, he looked furious. Then, as Kenma’ gaze traveled over him, that unspeakable anger transformed into wide eyes, and twitching lips. There was still frustration, but now also, worry?

Kuroo's grin faded, the bubble of joy in his stomach being replaced with guilt.

“You cut me off,” Kenma accused.

He swallowed hard.

“I did.”

“I had an in to the building’s camera system. I could see everything.”

It took a moment or two for the full meaning of those words to sink in. He thought them over, guilt multiplying as he considered what his fight might have been like to watch. Even if he’d won it. Even if he hadn’t been injured seriously. When everything clicked together, Kuroo’s only recourse was to apologize. Immediately.

“I’m so sor-”

“You’re a captain. Going off to make the flashy arrest isn’t your job. More than anyone else, you have to set an example. Even when you’re working by yourself, you should know better. This job, it’s risky. But it doesn’t have to be as risky as you make it sometimes, Kuro.”

“Sure, but-”

“But what?”

“I’m fine. I know that doesn’t mean much probably after seeing all that, but I’m here aren’t I?”

Kenma shot him a baleful look. It was chilling enough that he started to backpedal a little.

“Okay, so I could have waited. I’m sorry I cut you off. I know it’s breaking protocol.”

One second he was glancing down at an angry Kenma, and in the next second, he was being yanked down to his level. He had a tight grasp on the collar of Kuroo’s shirt. His face was stony.

“It’s not about protocol. I was worried. About you. For some reason.”

Kuroo exhaled sharply. He stared into the golden pools of Kenma’s eyes and felt that were he not in immediate fear of his life, he probably could have gotten lost in the beauty of them. They continued in that way for a long pause, until he started to feel a crick in his neck and reality started to beckon again somewhere in the corners of his mind.

“The last thing I want to do is worry you,” he offered. “I’m sorry.”

Yet the fact that Kenma cared enough to worry made him feel euphoric.

“You’re sorry, and you’re going to stop making stupid decisions?”

“I’m sorry that I make stupid decisions. I can’t promise that I won’t make any other ones in the future. So I guess, I’ll ask your forgiveness in advance?”

Kenma surveyed him, and a second later, released his grip. Kuroo straightened up again, feeling relief shooting through his protesting back and neck.

“Maybe you can have it.” Kenma diverted his gaze to check on his tablet again. After glancing over the placement of everyone, he shut it off. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place.”

The feeling Kuroo had then could only be described as awestruck. Countless reasons why Kenma could be asking him to go there overwhelmed his brain, mingling together in one writhing mess. He was going to get to see where he lived too? Already?

“Can I ask why?” he managed to say, once some of the initial shock wore off.

Kenma had already started walking away. He looked back to acknowledge the question.

“You’re covered in blood,” was his matter of fact answer. Like it was obvious. And it kind of was, but it sounded a lot more dramatic than what it was.

“I have a cut and a bloody nose,” Kuroo countered.

“You’re complaining about me treating you. For injuries,” Kenma deadpanned.

“I guess. I mean, it’s not life or death is what I’m saying.”

“I don’t like effort. I don’t do things I don’t want to.”

“Oh.” His trail of thought stopped with that statement. It sounded true to the Kenma he knew. But somehow it resonated a lot more now.

“If you’re done whining, let’s go.”

Figuring it was in his best interest, Kuroo decided for once to be obedient. He followed.

 

* * *

 

Kuroo had never gone to the length of picturing what Kenma’s home might look like, but if he had, it might have matched up with what he saw now.

The apartment was comfortable. Warm and well lived in, bits of clutter dotting every room he peeked his head into. In the living room there was a couch with deep, plush seats and blankets draped over the back of it. Also present was a gaming system hooked into the television and a tower where Kenma’s cat slept, curled up inside of the middle level nook.

If he was going to make a good impression, it was probably better not to wake her, Kuroo decided.

Though, he had to say, Kenma apparently had no qualms about that. There were snack wrappers still on the side table next to the couch. Kuroo’s fingers were dying to clear them away. But he’d refrain.

That was just him being nosy, and maybe wanting to nest a little. And that was moving way too fast.

Or was it?

They hadn’t had a first date yet, and it was only recently that he’d learned some more details about him, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know Kenma.

Things would unfold however they unfolded, and he was fine with that. It was useless putting a timeline on anything. They weren’t exactly conventional in a number of ways.

Bouncing around the space, he gave himself a tour of the kitchen slash dining area. Compared to everything else, it looked like the least utilized room. The small square table and chairs against the wall were pristine. As were the kitchen counters and sink. If he were making inferences, he’d say Kenma likely didn’t cook ever. Again, it sort of confirmed the impression of the man Kuroo had in his head already.

“I have the stuff. Come in here and sit down.”

He turned, encountering Kenma standing out front of his bedroom door.

Dutifully, Kuroo walked in to join him. His first order of business was to scan the room. There weren’t any chairs other than the one at the desk in the corner. Kenma had a fairly roomy bed though. Bed. That was probably what he meant by sitting down.

After he shoved his internal dialogue out of the way, he did so, sitting on the edge of it and burying his hands in his lap. Kenma moved closer, carrying with him a first aid kit. Though, once Kuroo spotted the contents, it seemed a lot more thorough than what he was used to seeing in stores.

“How’s your nose?”

“Fine. I don’t think it got too damaged. Just aches a little,” he answered rapid fire, trying to ignore how close they were now. Kenma was standing in front of him as he sat on the bed, with barely any room to spare between them.

His hands were busy with pulling things out of the kit. The first thing he held up was a cloth. Then he moved closer. Kuroo’s posture went ramrod straight. It was all he could do not to lean back, or fidget to burn off some of his nervous energy. He didn’t think it was an overreaction, either. Kenma was literally inches away from his face. How was he supposed to remain calm and composed?

And then it got exponentially worse. Kenma dabbed the cloth at where his blood had landed, moving from cheek to cheek to the skin that lay between his nose and mouth. As he cleaned it, he seemed very intent in his movements, watching each stroke of his hand as if checking his work.

Or like he was mapping out Kuroo’s face.

The thought made him shiver, and he took his own opportunity to look. He charted the shape of Kenma’s nose, the cute way that it upturned at the end. The roundness of his eyes and face in general. His small, but full lips.

That observation elicited another errant frisson to cascade down his spine. Kuroo breathed in deep to clear his mind again. Tempting. It was tempting, but he could behave if he didn’t let his urges overcome his impulse control. That’s not what he was here for. He was just here for Kenma to look after his injuries. Maybe some conversation, maybe getting a time set aside for their eventual date. Then he’d go home. To his house.

A prospect which was sounding lonelier and less appetizing by the minute, if Kuroo was being honest with himself.

Kenma pulled away once he was finished cleaning him up.

“Do you need an ibuprofen?”

“For my nose? No, it’s not that bad.”

“I meant for that,” Kenma further clarified, pointing a finger at the slash mark in his vest.

Kuroo took a second to consider it.

“Yeah, maybe that’d be wise.”

“I’ll be back.”

He watched Kenma retreat into the bathroom, silently giving thanks for a moment to calm down.

By the time he returned, Kuroo felt more at ease. He wasn’t going to let any part of him overcome his better judgement. There was no need to rush something as great as the beginning of this thing that they had. The fact that he’d been pining for a long time didn’t change anything.

He accepted the pill and glass of water Kenma handed him, swallowing down the lot in a couple of gulps. Then the glass was relegated to the bedside table.

“Thanks.”

“Take that off. I’ll stitch up your cut.”

Kuroo slipped off his vest. But when he got to the shirt underneath, he paused, looking back across at Kenma.

“Yes, Kuro.”

Did he say he was calm? Not anymore, after hearing that.

Still, he sucked it up and took off the shirt, tossing it with the vest on the floor. Once it was gone, he leaned back awkwardly on the bed, unsure what he should do with his hands, or really, how to act at all. Somehow in all of this, he hadn’t considered he’d have to strip for Kenma to get at his second wound.

He wished he had. Maybe then he could have prepared himself mentally for what it was like, sitting half naked in front of the guy he liked when it was a completely platonic situation. It was giving his brain the worst mixed signals. He was officially suffering, and he couldn’t allow that to show on the surface.

Gritting his teeth, Kuroo forced himself to look as Kenma got close again. It proved he was unaffected, professional-

But then Kenma’s fingers were on his chest, actually touching him, and any logical thought washed away in the rush of new sensation.

Frustratingly enough, he didn’t seem to be making a big deal out of it either. His fingers skated over the laceration on the left side of Kuroo’s chest, making sure it was cleaned out before he did anything else to it. Every movement appeared skillful, leading to a question bubbling out from Kuroo’s lips.

“Have you done this much?”

Kenma’s gaze shifted to him for a moment, making contact, before returning to his work. His mouth twisted with an expression Kuroo couldn’t place, somewhere between amusement and maybe a bit of wryness.

“Have you forgotten I was out in the field once?” he said at length, capping the cleaning solution and setting the bottle aside.

Kuroo felt compelled to act a little indignant, so he did. As if he’d forget an important detail like that. Kenma was just being a shit on purpose.

“Don’t answer my question with another question, Kenma,” he rebutted, watching him debate over the supplies in the kit.

In response, he received the threat of a needle held up between them.

“Don’t talk back to the person with a weapon when you have none.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” Kuroo laughed.

“I used to get a lot of these,” Kenma said after a pause.

His fingers outlined the cut, then slipped down, accidentally brushing at Kuroo’s nipple as they went. Kuroo felt something kindle in him at the touch, but quickly squashed it down. Professional behavior, he reminded himself pointedly.

“There was a guy I chased all around Kyoto. He was fond of knives. Throwing them, or cutting, if I didn’t give him any distance to do the first.”

“So you had plenty of practice?”

The idea of Kenma out on a mission was foreign to him, but strangely, it didn’t make him nervous. Intrigued to hear more, sure, but also a little in awe. Nekoma’s agents were a skilled bunch, but the job still had an alarming turnover rate. Kenma had been out there, and he’d survived more than a few times. It was impressive.

“Yeah.” Kenma was occupied with threading the needle. Kuroo looked over at him, noting the concentration on his face as he got it set up. Personally, he wasn’t looking forward to it much.

“Stay still.”

Kenma set into his task, bringing each side of the cut together before poking the needle through the skin. Kuroo winced but kept his movement limited, trying not to disrupt the stitching process. The last thing he wanted was a do-over if it went wrong the first time. Tilting his chin, he looked down at his chest, noting the orderliness of each pass of thread. It looked solid.

“You should have seen the knife Daishou used. It was kinda small, but the handle had jewels laid into it. Wonder if he stole those too…” Kuroo trailed off, pondering the thought. Kenma made a noncommittal noise in response.

“It wasn’t as sharp as it could have been. Guess he didn’t bother worrying about anything but making the design swaggy. But on the other hand, that’s better for me. Also I dodged it, so that helped.”

Another hum came from in front of him as Kenma put in the last few stitches.

“Always better getting slashed than stabbed.”

Kuroo went quiet. A part of him wondered if he was being too chatty. Even in the past, he’d found himself dominating the conversations they’d had. Did Kenma mind that?

It never seemed like he did, but with how lopsided things were, Kuroo did worry. He worried about a lot of things, actually. Finding a moment where he didn’t stress himself out with analyzing the minutiae of their interactions was rare. He had a hard time believing Kenma could be interested in him, that way.

Still, he had agreed to go out with him. That was positive progress.

And there was today, where Kenma had volunteered to patch him up. It was an act of care, something he didn’t have to offer, but he had because he’d wanted to. Kuroo wanted to take that as another sign in his favor.

Would it be pushy to bring up their impending date? There had never been a timeline for it unlike there was on Kuroo’s mission, the end of the bargain he’d had to fulfill to earn the privilege in the first place. Asking when Kenma was free seemed harmless enough. Maybe he’d leave it at that. Unless Kenma wanted to discuss more about it, then they could. He was game.

Kuroo was pulled from his musings by the feeling of cold on his skin. He glanced down to see Kenma spreading cream over his now sealed cut.

“What’s that stuff?”

“Antiseptic.”

“Oh,” he said, falling silent again.

The last step would be bandaging it to keep the air out, and then he’d be done. It was as good a time as ever to bring up the date conversation, since Kenma would probably would be expecting him to leave soon. He’d do it on his way out-

Kuroo jumped in his seat. Kenma’s hand was still applying cream, but had slipped down his chest and was rubbing some into where his nipple was. There couldn’t be any reason for that; it wasn’t next to the wound at all.

“Aren’t you using that too liberally?” he objected, confused, but unsure if it was an honest mistake or if it was legitimate and had some purpose he wasn’t seeing right now. Then again, earlier, when Kenma was cleaning out the cut, he’d accidentally brushed there too. It was a pretty weird coincidence for that to happen a second time.

Kenma pursed his lips; he didn’t offer any sort of explanation. Instead, he stopped to fish a gauze and bandage out from the first aid kit. Kuroo sat there, eyebrow raised as he applied the bandage. Was Kenma going to answer him?

Apparently not, judging by the way he avoided eye contact as he packed up his supplies again. When they were all put away, he walked back into the bathroom, leaving Kuroo staring at his retreating form.

Somehow, Kuroo felt like he’d missed something, some signal. Had he upset Kenma? By talking too much, or by criticizing how he did things? Maybe there was a reason Kenma did things the way he did; perhaps a trick he’d picked up after caring for his own wounds in his field agent days.

Kuroo couldn’t put his finger on a reason why Kenma would be upset with him, but he felt like he was. Conflict wasn’t something Kuroo enjoyed in his personal life, so he wanted to fix it for that reason alone, but also because he cared about Kenma. He wanted to understand what made him tick, what made him happy, sad, or even angry. Wanted to be the one to make him happy.

The door swung back open, heralding Kenma’s return to the room.

“Kenma?” Kuroo tried tentatively. He studied the other man’s face, but it was unreadable.

There was still no answer as Kenma walked around the bed until he was where he’d started, standing in front of Kuroo. Then, finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I didn’t like getting cut off. I thought you could get hurt. And you did,” he said haltingly, each sentence seeming to drop from him with a punch.

“Not badly,” Kuroo interrupted.

“Shut up for a second.”

Kuroo sat back, mollified. He’d never heard that from him before, but he wasn’t offended. He wanted to know what was so important that Kenma needed to say without being interrupted.

“I-” Kenma put a hand on Kuroo’s shoulder, and then one on the other. He ducked his head, quiet for a long moment as he looked directly at Kuroo, as if seeing his face would give him the rest of the words.

“I kind of liked you before, a little. Maybe. But when you did that, I realized, it was more than a little. I was worried, and now, I’ve been trying.” Kuroo was listening intently, so intently that he didn’t notice that they were drifting slowly closer together. “I’ve been trying to show that-”

Kenma sighed, and the warmth of the air was palpable between them.

“I want-”

The moment was suspended, so it felt like Kuroo had hours to move, to realize what was coming, but he didn’t. Realistically it was only a moment or so, and then the move was made.

Kenma’s hair swung forward, brushing lightly at his face. Their lips connected. Kuroo’s heart thundered inside of him, shocked and stimulated all at once. He melted to the sensation of their mouths moving against each other; it was the last thing he’d expected and the only thing he now wanted to feel. But the kiss was brief, more of a test on Kenma’s part than anything else. He soon pulled back, and looked away when he did.

“..you.”

Kuroo’s hand rose, loosely wrapping around one of the arms Kenma had on his shoulder and he stared up at him in wonder. It was hard to name what he felt right now, but wonder about covered it. He was surprised by the kiss, by the confession all together, but it put to rest several of the doubts he’d continued to harbor.

All of this - their conversations, the care he’d received, him asking Kenma out - it wasn’t just him pushing, and Kenma being polite enough to humor him.

Really, Kenma wasn’t polite. He could be a major shit at times, and he was irreverant toward conventions. He had no trouble telling Kuroo to shut up, or when he was being rash or foolhardy. In a way, Kenma was the anchor that brought him back down to earth, tempering the idealistic and stubborn parts of him. The voice in his head that Kuroo knew he ought to listen to more, because it cared about him, and was often right.

Like today.

He should have trusted Kenma then, so he would have to settle and trust him now. Trust that he wanted Kuroo, that things between them weren’t moving too fast. Underneath all the layers of his worrying, Kuroo was desperate to give in. He’d check one last time for posterity, and then silence any remaining doubts.

“You want me?”

Kenma dropped into his lap, an answer in of itself.

“Yes, Kuro,” he confirmed, voice a little weary but a little amused too. “Can I have you?”

Kuroo reached around Kenma’s body, pulling him more onto his lap and steadying him there. “Yeah,” he breathed out. And then he leaned in and kissed him.

It was just as dangerous to his heart as the first time; Kuroo could feel his pulse hammering loudly inside his chest like it had no intention of ever slowing down. He was pressing his lips gently against Kenma’s, ghosting them together to get a feel for what it felt like. It felt soft and overwhelmingly perfect. He was entranced.

Sliding a hand up Kenma’s back, Kuroo dug in, pressing his fingers tightly into the cotton of Kenma’s shirt. At the same time he let himself linger with his kisses, slotting their mouths together and holding firm until one of them pulled back to get a breath in. Kuroo blinked his eyes open after he caught his breath again.

Kenma’s eyes were shut at first too, but then they slid open as if he’d felt Kuroo doing the same and unconsciously was mirroring him. The silence between them was easy. Kuroo drank in his fill of looking, and then he swooped in again, capturing Kenma’s mouth.

As they melded together, he felt an arm loop around his neck. Fingers raking up the back of it and into his hair, caressing it at the root. He gasped slightly at how good it felt, and Kenma responded by flattening his hand, and combing through Kuroo’s hair with it until he could grab a bunch.

Kenma pulled his hair, and another frisson jolted through him. Kuroo fell victim to the insistent lips nudging at his and wanting to explore more. He parted his lips and felt Kenma sigh into him. The hair was tugged at a second time, harder. Kuroo moaned lowly and felt a kiss stick against his cheek, almost a sort of encouragement.

Then Kenma’s lips were back, and his tongue pushed inside. Kuroo’s other hand joined the first on Kenma’s back, squeezing his sides tightly and pressing their chests together. He rubbed his tongue against Kenma’s, rolling them together once before retreating and changing course.

Surging forward, Kuroo sucked on Kenma’s full lower lip. Somewhere in the mists he heard the man in his arms groan, and his hair was roughly tugged, causing him to do the same.

Kuroo could hardly think. His body was flushed with warmth and arousal. He needed so much more though, and the best part was he could actually have it.

Nudging Kenma, Kuroo broke up their embrace, sitting back enough to get his hands on the hem of Kenma’s shirt. He tugged it up, and Kenma helped, slipping his arms through and ducking to get the fabric off from around his head. When it was gone, Kuroo took a good look at him.

Kenma’s eyes were molten gold. His lips were dark, and he was breathing faster than had been apparent before. And he was staring back at him in a way that was turning Kuroo’s insides into jelly. Like he was ravenous for him.

It was a foreign thought, but one he was more than happy to accept.

Kenma reached out, finding the button on his pants easily and popping it open. Definitely eager, Kuroo thought as he felt Kenma at work, fishing out his cock as best as their position allowed. Kenma gave a little huff. He sounded frustrated somehow, and when he glared down at their laps, Kuroo shrank back. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. Or if he’d done something wrong.

But he’d never find out, it seemed. Kenma stood, busying himself with the zipper of his jeans. When he got it down, he shot Kuroo an apprasing glance. Then he turned around, and started stripping off the pants, tugging the material slowly downward.

Kuroo felt his interest pique, and he scrambled to sit up and gain a better view. In front of his eyes, he watched Kenma’s body bend as he pulled his jeans down to his ankles. His ass was slender, tightly toned muscle on a lean frame. His thighs were surprisingly substantial, just thick enough that Kuroo knew he wanted to spent a night or two exploring them thoroughly. By the way his cock twitched in his palm, the rest of him was in agreement.

“Take yours off.”

Kuroo laughed, the sound husky.

“Want a show too?”

Kenma rolled his eyes. “Just off.”

“Missing out-” Kuroo teased as he got up from the bed.

Carefully, he untangled himself from all his layers, slipping his clothes down his legs. He kicked them away at the foot, eyes never leaving Kenma. For not wanting any sort of display, he seemed incredibly watchful, gaze raking down Kuroo’s now bare body. Kuroo plopped himself down on the bed again, scooting further onto it to wait. So far, he wasn’t the one setting their pace and he was curious to see what Kenma would think of. Where he wanted this to go. They were off to a good start already in Kuroo’s estimation.

Kenma joined him a few moments later, setting a bottle on the comforter beside them. He crawled over to Kuroo and straddled his thighs. Not able to help himself, Kuroo stole a kiss, grinning when he spotted the scowl Kenma gave him as he retreated.

Already, he was finding out that all of Kenma’s expressions were cute. Though that could be his bias talking.

Kenma picked up the lube, pouring some out in his palm. He offered it to Kuroo. “You know what to do, right?”

That was plain uncalled for.

Taking the bottle, Kuroo made a face of his own. “I know plenty, Kenma,” he groused, getting his fingers slick. For that zinger, he was gonna make sure Kenma felt exactly all that he knew.

His thoughts of revenge were curtailed abruptly by a hand wrapping around his cock and giving it a squeeze. Kuroo hissed out a breath, abdominals tightening as he adjusted to the pressure and heat encasing him. Kenma’s hand dragged down his shaft, increasing the sensations that were challenging him now.

If he didn’t get moving, it would be too tempting to get lost in the perfect way Kenma was stroking him and never resurface. He wanted Kenma to feel good, wanted to feel all of him so badly. Kuroo knew he had to push himself.

Licking his lips, he steadied Kenma on top of him with hand, the other reaching underneath. Instinct guided him right to the tight little pucker. He slid a finger over the hole, wetting the skin with lube, and then pressed his thumb against it, just enough to tease but not pressing inside. Kenma shifted his body, looking across to him. There was obvious desire in those eyes.

Kuroo stopped messing around.

Pulling his thumb away, he started sliding one slick finger inside the narrow heat. Kenma’s hand pumped his cock from the the base up, moving slow but holding strong enough that the friction was intense. Kuroo bit back a low whine and starting thrusting his finger, nudging Kenma open pass by pass.

Gradually, he was softened up enough that Kuroo added a second, pushing them in deep and curling. Kenma’s muscles tensed around him, and he let out a hushed noise of contentment.

“Feeling good?” Kuroo asked, scanning his lover’s face. Kenma’s eyes were creased shut, his mouth slack.

“Mm,” was all the response he got. It was all the answer he needed, really.

Drawing back, he began thrusting in the same rhythm. Every other thrust, he stopped enough to curl and push his fingers against Kenma’s sweet spot. Kuroo loved the wispy gasps he got when he did, and the way Kenma squirmed on top of him, unconsciously bearing down against the onslaught. It might have also caused Kenma’s hand to stutter to a stop, but Kuroo was hardly complaining. He’d just last longer later.

Smiling fondly, he pressed in with a third digit, stretching out the small opening further. Another thing he was loving was the feel of Kenma’s body as he opened up to him. So tight but giving, and he felt every quaver of pleasure that ran through Kenma’s muscles when he stimulated him, every clench squeezing his fingers. It would feel like a dream around his cock.

Kuroo rocked his hand gently, leaning forward to nuzzle at Kenma’s lips. Kenma’s brows drew together, eyes still cutely closed. He murmured against Kuroo’s mouth, something inaudible but vaguely positive. Taking it as that, Kuroo kissed him properly. Abandoning what he’d been doing before, Kenma rose up to wrap both of his arms around Kuroo’s neck, kissing back with passion.

Kuroo couldn’t remember when he’d felt so blissful before.

The air around them was heavy with anticipation but the weight wasn’t crushing. He was excited, he was rejuvenated, he was very much aroused. There wasn’t a rush, but Kuroo still couldn’t stop himself from wanting to strive for more. He was savoring every feeling as much as he could, but he needed more of Kenma.

Speeding up the thrust of of his hand, he attacked Kenma’s lips. His fingers struck his prostate dead on, hard. Kenma came up gasping, finally letting a moan escape, and Kuroo chased him down, tugging on one lip to urge him back to their kiss. There was a frenzy for the next moments, Kenma growing increasingly vocal in the spaces that Kuroo let him break away.

Finally, Kuroo relented and pulled out. Even just the sensation of doing so was enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath, so he knew it was enough.

He looked back at Kenma.

“How do you want-”

Kuroo was knocked silent as his back hit the mattress, Kenma pinning him onto it in a feat of strength. Well, that was one way to answer his question. Above him, Kenma ducked down, hand returning to give his cock a few wet pumps, slicking the entire length.

Kuroo’s head arched back in pleasure, but the gesture was all too short-lived.

Instead, he felt Kenma shifting around, scooting up to straddle him. Quicker than he could have imagined, Kenma was sinking down on top of him.

He moved slowly, and Kuroo could see his chest rise with how deep of breaths he was taking, felt the gradual pressure as his cock slid in. After a while, Kuroo abandoned watching, closing his eyes and focusing on adjusting to the intense feeling surrounding him. It felt incredible; he wanted to last. Part of him still couldn’t believe they were doing this, but he wasn’t going to overthink it too much.

After what seemed like ages, Kenma bottomed out, and he stopped there, probably getting used to it too. But a second later, Kuroo felt Kenma kiss him, and a hand pushed back his bangs.

“Kuro.”

He whined lowly in response, but opened his eyes.

“Look at me,” Kenma instructed, his voice wispy.

Kuroo nodded, and watched obediently as Kenma sat up.

He began to cant his hips, rocking back erratically as he found his rhythm. Kuroo pressed up, trying to match him. Taking the oppportunity, he drank in the image of Kenma on top of him, body on full display. The way his thighs flexed subtly as Kenma sank down and took his cock in deep, and how his lips trembled with held back sounds when felt himself being split open.

Kenma’s erection bobbed with his movements, and proved a tantalizing sight. Kuroo reached out to take it in hand, wrapping his fingers around the shaft just firm enough to let Kenma thrust through his fist as he gyrated his hips and still glean a bit of friction. Intermittently, he squeezed and pumped at his cock to give him a bit more.

That was what broke down Kenma’s resistance. Kuroo’s ears perked up as he heard moans spilling out of his lover’s mouth, desperate and pleasured. Feeling experimental, he thrust up hard and fast, and smirked when the noises grew louder. His free hand gripped Kenma’s hip, almost pressing him down onto his cock.

His pulse felt dizzyingly fast, and his breaths were hard-fought as his body exerted itself. Kuroo kept rocking upwards as much has his position allowed, hammering into Kenma’s pert ass. It was tight, hot, but heaven. Cursing as Kenma clenched around him, he slowed again, savoring the friction as his cock worked in and out of him.

Pleasure was coiling fast, building up low in his groin and radiating outward. It felt like a hill he both did and didn’t want to climb. On the other side was a oblivion, ecstasy, but a part of him was doing its best to fight off the feelings. To draw this experience out longer. But Kenma felt so good all around him, and Kuroo’s control was slipping.

Abruptly, the sounds he heard changed tune.

“Ah… stop,” Kenma eked out through a wince. His face was pinched with discomfort. Kuroo stilled immediately.

“You okay?”

“…Legs cramping. Mm, tired also,” Kenma responded. He wiggled out from the hold Kuroo had on him, and then to Kuroo’s horror, pulled away entirely. He crawled his way up to the pillows, and laid down on his stomach, legs stretched out straight behind him.

“Kenma,” he whined, stretching out the syllables of the name. “In the middle? Really?”

He earned a grumble and a glare cast over one of Kenma’s shoulders.

“I want to get off too. But, no more of… that,” he explained vaguely before returning his face to the pillows.

Kuroo sighed. Well, it had been fun while it lasted. He had been surprised at the amount of effort Kenma was putting in; over the time they’d worked together, he was notoriously more hands off than other handlers in the business. Simply put, Kenma was a lazy soul. It was probably inevitable that it came to this, even in such a delicate situation.

Kuroo pushed himself up, getting onto his knees and joining him higher on the bed.

“Up, up,” he ordered good-naturedly, grabbing Kenma’s hips and raising them up to a better angle. Kenma let himself be moved without complaint.

Kuroo lined up and started pressing inside again, eyes glued to the sight of Kenma’s skin stretching around the girth of his cock. He ground in, making shallow thrusts until he found what worked. Kenma was still so slick, but now comfortably loose. He could fuck in easily and deep without any resistance. Kenma’s body gripped at him at intervals, the pressure of his muscles tightening up was sufficient to choke a low growl out of Kuroo’s throat.

Leaning forward, he blanketed Kenma’s body and pressed his chest to Kenma’s back, holding onto his sides for support. Swinging his hips quicker, he thrust in with abandon. Kenma’s sounds were muffled, but as close as they were now, he could just hear them. Gasps and strained little mewls of pleasure. Kuroo gently kissed the top of Kenma’s shoulder and caressed the sides of his ribs with both hands.

In that moment he felt extremely fond.

In the next, he was exasperated.

Kenma’s head lifted from the pillows. “You’re dripping on me,” he said bluntly, putting an end to the rosy-colored thoughts in Kuroo’s head.

“I’m what now?” he asked wearily, slowing but not ceasing the cant of his hips.

“Sweat. Your sweat is on me,” Kenma stated.

“And? Not sure what I can do about that. It’s kind of close quarters here,” he gasped, his voice trailing off into a groan as Kenma’s body squeezed him.

“Move.”

“Again?” Kuroo said, eyes fluttering as a frisson engulfed him. He was close again, and the thought of moving anywhere sounded abjectly horrible.

“I don’t want you on me. You’re gross.”

“Is this some kind of punishment?”

It definitely felt like a punishment. Kuroo was starting to wonder if he’d ever get to finish. At this rate, Kenma wouldn’t either unless he finally got settled. Personally, he was nearing the end of his patience. But luckily, he had a lot of patience where Kenma was concerned, so he’d play along one last time.

“Should be, for, ah-” Kenma hissed out a moan as his prostate was grazed “-for earlier. You cutting me off.”

“I already apologized,” Kuroo huffed. “Okay, have any bright ideas about how we can make this work?”

“You could do me against the wall.”

After a few seconds of fevered deliberation, Kuroo had to admit the idea had potential.

“I could do that.”

“Then do it,” Kenma challenged from over his shoulder.

Reluctant, Kuroo pulled out for what he sincerely hoped would be the last time, and gingerly made his way off the bed. His mind felt hazy, too addled with the need to get off. It needed to be soon.

Kenma followed him to the edge of the mattress, and then stared up at him. It made for a lewd tableau, him staring at Kenma while Kenma’s face was nearly level with his own very hard cock. But it was an image he’d have to store away for another time.

“When I have you up here, wrap your legs around me.”

He got a nod rather than an answer, but Kuroo figured that meant go ahead. Ducking down, he got a good grip on Kenma, pulling him up as he pushed himself higher. Kenma's legs coiled tightly around his middle, arms like a vice as they held onto Kuroo's shoulders. Satisfied that he was secure, Kuroo walked them over to the wall, pressing Kenma’s back to it firmly.

He sucked in a breath to take the edge off, and then guided his cock back in.

Gravity took its course, and they both muffled moans as all of him swung in deep.

Almost immediately, Kuroo revised his opinion. This was a great idea, except for when he was already two steps away from climax. He began to hammer upward, bouncing Kenma on the wall with each pass. The heat and pressure around his shaft was intense. Hell, even the heat trapped between their bodies was stimulating. It didn’t help that every time he thrust, Kenma’s nails were digging into his back and his cock was grinding against his abs, slicking them up with precum.

Kuroo wasn’t sure how he was supposed to last.

Grunting with the effort, he angled himself better and kept going, hitting Kenma’s prostate dead on each time. It was cheap, but they’d waited long enough. He wanted to hear more of Kenma’s beautiful sounds before he let himself go.

“Kenma,” Kuroo called, earning an opening of the other man’s eyes. Kenma stared back at him, golden gaze clouded over with lust. While Kuroo watched, his nose scrunched, and his lips peeled open to release a moan. Kuroo felt his cock throb painfully in response.

“Kenma,” he repeated breathlessly, thrusting faster into that sensitive spot.

The cries grew louder, ringing out between Kenma’s increasingly desperate gasps for air. His face was flushed, hair disheveled with blond strands stuck to his face. His neck arched against the wall futilely, not having much room to move, and his legs tightened around Kuroo’s middle.

Seconds later, his whole body froze, and then he was panting and trembling in Kuroo’s arms as he spilled between them.

“Kenma, Kenma… ah-” Kuroo managed before he slammed in one final time and saw stars.

Slowly, slowly, his hips stopped rocking and he savored the sweetness of the release. The way his body was light and tingly even though it was bone tired. How clear his mind was, and how relaxed he felt. Kuroo braced heavily against the wall, taking a moment to come down from everything. Pressed up against him, Kenma laid his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, breaths markedly quieter than they had been only a minute ago.

After they both caught their breath, he very carefully lowered Kenma to his feet.

As soon as he was on solid ground, Kenma had a new complaint.

“Ugh, your…” he made a face, and Kuroo inferred the rest of what he’d probably wanted to say.

“Want me to get a washcloth so you don’t have essence of gross old me all over?”

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Kuroo was content.

The day was done, Daishou was in jail, and he was cuddled up under the covers with Kenma.

It was a good place to be. He had this to look forward to for the duration of the vacation his boss had promised, and Kuroo was thrilled about it. Currently they were laying on their sides, and he was busy watching Kenma mess around with a game. Occasionally, he would pick up his own phone to return a text, but the majority of his time was spent watching Kenma’s screen, or combing fingers through his hair.

It was perfect, which usually meant that the moment would be fleeting. The sound of his phone going off a few minutes later only confirmed his theory.

Kuroo grabbed the device and held it up to his ear.

“What?”

“Get your butt to headquarters. We’ve got a new case.”

“You couldn’t have waited one day, Yakkun? I’m on vacation,” Kuroo sighed. Kenma tipped his head over his shoulder to stare at him questioningly.

“You’re needed because you have experience with the person we’re after.”

“Okay, and who is it?”

“Do you remember Daishou’s fiancée? She’s taken up his mantle. Maybe it’s how they’ll make up.”

Kuroo swore.

At this rate, he was going to be chasing thieving snakes until retirement.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [KuroKen Sin Week](http://kurokensinweek.tumblr.com/), which is running May 1st - May 7th. Thanks for reading this one and if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a brief comment or kudos!


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